


What We Wouldn’t Do

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Mentions of Emma Swan/August Booth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Seriously. We know how to pick ‘em, Jones.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>In the wake of another break-up, Emma and Killian make a drunken pact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_another_classic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/gifts).



> For [justanotherwannabeclassic](http://justanotherwannabeclassic.tumblr.com/) and [shady-swan-jones](http://shady-swan-jones.tumblr.com/), who had sent separate prompts via Tumblr that ended up mashed together in my head. 
> 
> From justanotherwannabeclassic: 
> 
> _Prompt because I am shameless and think this is one of the more romantic TV convos ever: “I’m just saying, if you were in an accident, I wouldn’t stop for a beer.” “If you were in an accident, I wouldn’t stop for red lights.”_
> 
> Which comes from this [fabulous scene between Josh and Donna on West Wing](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Boygs2p4pH4).
> 
> And from shady-swan-jones:
> 
>  __[This thread here](http://9gag.com/gag/a3BLOpr).  
>  First we were friends, then friends with benefits, now we do everything together, talk all night long, laugh. cuddle but it’s still secret. I don’t know what we have, but at this point I’m too afraid to ask.

“Seriously. We know how to pick ‘em, Jones.”

Killian glanced up to find Emma sliding into the other side of the booth, dropping a beer and a shot of whiskey in front of him. He refrained from raising an eyebrow at her. While they’d been out in groups together, it’d been months since she’d spoken to him directly – sought out his company – and he was loathe to discourage her. Instead he tipped the shot glass in her direction before knocking the bottom against the table and downing its contents. Washing it down with a gulp of his beer, he took a moment to give her a once over.

She was wearing a t-shirt from the café they’d met at years ago. The one where they’d passed so many hours between and after classes, snarking at one another between endless cups of coffee and piles of draft papers and journal articles between them. The shirt was now torn, faded, and well-worn and he hadn’t seen her in ages. Her hair was pulled back in a loose knot and her face bare of any makeup to hide the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Hello, Swan.”

She grunted and knocked back her own whiskey while he caught Robin’s eye behind the bar and signaled for two more.

“Not sure why I bother,” she mumbled, staring at her beer. He tapped the table in front of her and nodded towards the bar so she knew where he was going. Picking up two glasses from Robin, he returned and slid in next to her, pulling her into an awkward sideways hug.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I was in the emergency room last night.”

He turned her to face him, giving her another glance over. “Pardon?”

She shifted and pressed her back against the wall, pulling her knees up and to her chest. “Kidney stone. Hurt like a bitch,” she said, resting her arms on her knees. Before he could get anything out, she waved her hand. “Passed while I was there. I’m ok.”

He reached out and circled his hand around her ankle, rubbing his thumb along the skin exposed by her cuffed jeans. “You should have called.”

She shrugged and said, “I called August.”

Killian sighed and drank his beer. She was well-versed on his opinion on the subject of August. It had been the reason for the recent strain in their friendship and he’d learnt to keep his counsel. 

“Thought he’d give me a ride to the hospital.” She took her second shot. “He didn’t answer. Didn’t even call me later. Just sent a text saying he hoped I felt better.” She picked up her beer and gulped down a third of it.

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered but she kept her focus on her beer. He tapped against her ankle and reached his other hand out to tip her chin up to look at him. When she finally looked up he repeated, “You should have called. And if you didn’t want to call me, Mary Margaret would have come for you.”

“I didn’t want to bother –”

“Emma,” he said sharply. “You are not a bother.” He moved closer to her, taking her hands from her knees and coaxing her to unfold her legs so her could pull her back into a hug. “You should have had someone with you,” he whispered. 

“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered into his shoulder. 

“Not an idiot, love. Your super power is just a little wobbly around those you care for.”

She pulled back and gave him a crooked smile as she righted herself. She nudged his beer towards him and took a drink of her own. He obliged her and finished off his pint. 

“Should you even being drinking?” he asked.

“Shove it, Jones.” She put her empty glass back down on the table and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “I’m pulling the rough night card.”

He clicked his tongue but gave her a smile anyway. “Fair enough.” He poked at her side. “Are you truly all right?”

She nodded. “They sent me home with some painkillers and want me to follow-up with a doctor, but I haven’t needed them. I was fine by the time they released me.”

“What about the other thing?”

She sighed. “Get us another beer?”

Killian hesitated but knew arguing would get him nowhere. He headed over to Robin and ordered another round. 

“All ok there?” Robin asked when he pushed the fresh pints to him. “Haven’t seen you two in together of late.”

“Aye, mate,” he said with a nod. “We’ll be all right.” Picking up the glasses, he asked, “You still coming by on Tuesday for the match?”

“Of course,” he called as he turned to help two guys who’d settled at the other end of the bar.

Killian returned to Emma and pushed her drink to her with a pointed look. “Against my better judgement, Swan.”

She laughed and took her glass. “Stop channeling your inner David. One overbearing brother-like figure is enough.”

He wrinkled his nose and pouted as he sat. “Nice. I bring you beer and you give me grief.” 

“Thank you,” she sing-songed with a smile and took a sip of her drink. 

He followed suit and let them fall into silence, giving her time to work through her thoughts without him pressing her further.

“I’m going to have to break up with him, aren’t I?” she asked after a few minutes. 

“That’s not really for me to say,” he replied, doing his best to keep his tone even.

“Bullshit,” she bit out. 

He started to snap off a reply, but bit down on his tongue and raised an eyebrow instead.

“Is that your way of saying I told you so?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he said with a laugh. “But you don’t need to decide anything tonight, love.” 

She sighed and slumped back against the booth.

“How about you let me catch up with my best friend instead?” he continued, bumping his shoulder into hers. “I’ve had no tales from the glamorous underbelly of the private investigation world. I feel deprived. We can leave the heavy stuff for another night.”

She let out a breath and gave him a brilliant smile, one he returned without hesitation. Then stretching out to lean back against the wall again, she crossed her legs and propped her feet up on his lap. Placing one arm on the back of the booth and wrapping his free hand on her top ankle, he listened as she spun out a tale of the latest lovers' woe and betrayal to grace her office.


	2. September

It was dark when he pulled in the driveway. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as the house came into view around the bend. It’d only been a few weeks since the work was completed and he’d moved in, the home that had started as a germ of an idea during a late night conversation with Belle in the week they’d first opened their firm. That conversation was years ago now – its fruition all broad windows and dark wood and steel set into the woods, the water of the bay beyond just visible from where he sat. 

What he hadn’t expected to find, however, was the flash of yellow in his headlights as he pulled around the last curve. Emma hadn’t said she was coming, he’d have headed home earlier if she had. Killian glanced down at his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed a message but there was nothing – no missed call or text to say to expect her. He hadn’t even had a chance to cut her a set of keys yet, but he should have known that wouldn’t have deterred her.

The house was dark when he entered, the only light was that which filtered in through the windows from the dim lamps spread along the railing of the back decking. He ducked his head into the guest room but found no sign of her. Assuming she was outside on the dock, he made his way to his own room for a change of clothes. What he found instead was Emma curled up on top of the covers in the center of his bed. She was still fully dressed, shoes and all. He sat down by her feet and slipped her shoes off, then did his best to pull the duvet out from under her to tuck her underneath. 

Once he was sure he hadn’t woke her, he took a set of sleep pants from his dresser as quietly as he could and padded to the bathroom to change and ready himself for bed. When he returned he briefly considered going to sleep in the guest room, but shook his head at himself before slipping in behind her and pulling her to him. She mumbled as he wrapped an arm around her waist, but didn’t wake, and after a few moments he drifted off as well.

*

When he woke the next morning, he found himself alone and sprawled at his usual angle across the bed. He wondered if Emma had left with as much noticed as she arrived until he heard the dull murmur of music coming from the living room, a sure sign she was still there. As he made his way from the bedroom there was no sign of her. However, in the kitchen he found the coffee pot full and an empty mug waiting for him beside it. He smiled as he poured himself a cup and brought it to his lips. 

He began to worry when he finished the first cup without any sign of her. He poured himself a second and made his way out to the deck, stretching out against the railing as he scanned the water below. He finally spotted her at the end of his dock, one leg dangling off the edge, skimming her toes along the water’s surface.

He set his mug on the table behind him and made his way down the stairs to join her. When he came up behind her she didn’t turn, but she scooted over to make room.

“Hi,” he said as he sat and then stretched his arms behind him to lean back and enjoy the last of the season’s heat against his face.

“I can see why you like it out here,” she said softly.

Killian shifted to look out across the water, taking in the rolling line of pines on the far shore. “I missed the water.” Turning his head to glance over at her, he caught her wry smile. 

“Because there isn’t enough open water in Portland?”

“Not like this, love,” he replied with a kick of his toe out towards the water. “Not with this view.”

She let out a deep breath. “I know.” Then after a beat she continued, “Still not sure I can forgive you for moving so far away.”

He laughed. “David and Mary Margaret are down the road in town. You’re here more weekends than you are in Portland. I don’t think you’re in any danger of not seeing me.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Come now, Swan,” he said, lifting a hand and gesturing back towards the house. “Think of it as your own bayfront retreat. People would kill to be in your position.” 

She snorted. 

“Fine,” he drawled. “You can continue to crash at the loft with the two of them doing gods know what while you’re trying to sleep. Far be it from me –”

“Ugh! Stop! I’m still scarred,” she said with a push to his shoulder. “I don’t think my psyche has ever recovered from that.”

Killian relented and they fell into silence for a while. He laid back and closed his eyes, letting the sound of the water lapping at the shore lull him. Eventually Emma stretched out and joined him, shifting to rest her head on his chest, and he felt himself drifting off with his hand curled around her arm. Just as he thought he might fall back asleep, she whispered, “I ended things with August.”

He struggled to keep his breathing even and his heartbeat in check, not wanting to give her an excuse to pull away. He squeezed her arm to give himself something to focus on, hoping his silence would encourage her to continue. It had been months since their conversation at the bar after her ER visit earlier that summer. He’d been reluctant to push on her obvious stalling, not wanting a repeat of the months of deafening silence from her.

“Not that there had been much to end,” she continued with a small shrug.

Killian rolled on his side to pull her into a real hug. He itched to ask what had tipped her over the edge, what beyond August’s callous inattention was enough to get her to act. “I’m sorry,” he whispered instead as he tangled his fingers in the ends of her hair. 

“No, you’re not.”

He pulled back and curved a hand under her chin to get her to look at him. “I may not understand what you see in him, love. And there may be no love lost between us, but don’t think for a second that I ever want to see you hurt.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. 

“Thanks,” she said against his collarbone. They remained like that for a few minutes, curled against one another, her breath fanning against his chest and the warmth of the rising sun settling into their skin. Eventually she pulled back and asked, “Can I stay the weekend?”

“Stay as long as you like,” he replied without hesitation.

She smiled up at him. “You may live to regret that offer.”

“Not likely,” he said, smiling back.

“You sure?” she asked, squinting at him.

He nodded and she shifted her hands to his chest. And he’ll forever blame the fact he left his second cup of coffee on the deck rather than finishing it for not seeing what she was up to when she suddenly rolled and pushed him off the dock with a triumphant cry.

He sputtered as he surfaced, grateful for the relative warmth of the water in early September. He lunged to snatch at her wrist where she still sat crouched on the dock. When he missed and she stood back, he grinned. 

“I advise that you run, love.”

Her eyes grew wide and she stepped backwards before sprinting towards the house. He threw his head back and laughed before swimming back to shore to give pursuit.


	3. October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated the rating. Smut crept in. If that isn't your cuppa, feel free to scroll past when it comes and skip to the last few paragraphs.

Killian’s prediction wasn’t far off. As late summer faded into autumn and the coming winter chill settled over the bay, Emma seemed to spend nearly as much time in Storybrooke as she did Portland. She came and went as she wanted, sometimes staying with Mary Margaret and David, but usually using his home as her base camp. In her wake, there was usually at least one book left spread open across the back of the couch, her clothes lay scattered in the guest room she’d claimed, and strange food-like products inhabited his kitchen.

He pretended to be irritated by the disarray, but the truth was he was fond of the tiny intrusions. Not since Liam had anyone so clearly flouted his sense of order and he was surprised by how welcome that was. And how welcome it was to share space with someone again, even if it was on an unpredictable schedule.

Killian tapped his fingers against the conference table and tried to refocus his thoughts from Emma back to the plans Belle left pinned up for him. He pushed off from where he’d been leaning against the table and moved back towards the renderings, running a finger along the roof line and trying to figure out what about it wasn’t working for him. He was no further in making sense of what was off when he was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. He reached back, groping for where he left it on the table, and smiled when he finally managed to grab ahold and swipe it, Emma’s name flashing at him.

_Please, please, please tell me you are home._

He tapped out a reply – _At the office. Why?_ – and returned to the puzzle before him.

 _Need an escape_ , came a few minutes later.

Killian glanced around the room. The sun was setting, bathing it in oranges and reds. He should have left hours ago. He’d only meant to run by to pick up some specs when he found the work Belle left for his review and got caught up.

_Where are you?_

_Leaving Mary Margaret’s_ was her immediate reply. _Need therapy in the form of rum. Lots of it._

He laughed. _You know where the stash is. Be there as soon as I can._

*

“I know she means well, but a heads up would have been nice, you know?”

He had arrived home about twenty minutes after her and found her perched cross-legged on one of the living room chairs. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, jeans rolled up to just under her knee and her feet bare. Looking at her, you wouldn’t know snow was in the morning forecast. She had been scrolling through her phone with one hand, while the other rolled a half empty glass around.

He’d kicked off his boots and gone to the kitchen to grab a glass for himself as well as the bottle. When he returned, she joined him at the dining table and caught him up on her aborted dinner plans with the Nolans. Two drinks later, Emma was mid-rant about the blind double date Mary Margaret had duped her into.

“Let’s say she did tell you. What would that have accomplished besides giving you the opportunity to not turn up? Poor sod.”

Emma huffed. “It would serve them right. You can’t just spring a date on someone. Especially someone who drove three hours for the privilege.”

“And I reiterate, poor sod. He’s not even an afterthought in your equation.”

She ignored him and took a sip of her drink before continuing, “Whose side are you on anyway? I mean I know it’s my fault for complaining about my lack of a sex life, but I can find my own dates when I’m ready, thank you very much.”

Killian snorted. “And just how long _has_ it been, Swan?” he asked, hiding a grin behind his tumbler.

Emma sighed and adjusted her ponytail. “I don’t even know.” She knocked back the remains of her glass and set it in front of him. “I stormed out of August’s place, what? Over three months ago now? And those last couple of months, I don’t even know if we had sex. Or maybe it was so bad that I’ve repressed what little we had.”

He raised an eyebrow and took a drink.

“So let’s say five, maybe six, months with just me and a trusty vibrator.”

Killian clicked his tongue as he refilled her glass. “No one since, huh?” Then thinking better of focusing on August, he teased, “Tell me more about this vibrator,” as he pushed her glass across the table to her.

She rolled her eyes and his smirk spread. “What about you?” she deferred.

He watched her tap a finger against the rim of her glass as she waited for his response. Opting to stall as he decided on how truthful to be with her, he said, “I’m not sure if we have the type of friendship where I tell you about my collection.”

She huffed and kicked at one of his feet. “Not what I meant and you know it.”

He laughed and rolled his tongue against the back of his front teeth. “Sadly, my monkhood appears to be outpacing yours.” He took a gulp of his rum. “It’s been about ten months since a lass has been generous enough to share a bed with me.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Really? Why?”

Killian shrugged. “It’s not that the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. One offs just seem to have lost their appeal of late.” He settled his tumbler back on the table. “There’s something to be said for the experience that comes with a built rapport and understanding.”

She seemed to consider his words for a moment. “Someone should have sent that memo to August.”

“Tosser,” he muttered and picked the bottle back up to top off both their glasses. Emma downed the measure he poured and laughed as she pushed her glass back to him.

“He was an idiot, wasn’t he?”

He finished his own glass before he nodded and poured them more. “To have a woman as beautiful as you in his bed and not know what to do with her? He’s a bloody, bloody fool.” He watched her redden at his words, the blush spreading down her neck. He licked his lips as he set the rum bottle back down, pulling his gaze back to her face.

She eyed him and leaned forward, the movement giving him a view down the open line of her button down shirt. “So you’re telling me not one of those women you’ve brought home was willing to help you with a repeat of the experience?” she asked while picking up her glass, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“It’s not a question of my performance,” he drawled. “I assure you, I make a point of that.” She hummed as he shifted his gaze down to his glass, swirling the contents. Shrugging, he continued, “Work has been a bit of a madhouse and romance takes time, which seems to have been in short supply.”

“Who said anything about romance?”

Killian laughed. “Emma Swan, are you suggesting I find myself –” He waved his hand as he searched for the right word. “What’s the term here?”

“Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies?” she offered and he frowned. “Don’t act so scandalized. I’ve seen you in action on a night out,” she shot with a pointed swig of her drink.

He waggled his eyebrows and sipped at his rum.

“We make quite the pair,” she sighed.

“That we do, love,” he affirmed, tipping his glass to her before taking a drink.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, continuing to drink. Eventually he followed her gaze towards the darkened valley just beyond the windows. There were a smattering of lights in the distance, but no other signs of life.

“You know,” she started, tapping her toe against his calf to pull his attention back to her. “We could always…”

He gulped and coughed around the drink he’d tried to swallow as she trailed off. “You aren’t suggesting?” he started once he recovered.

She shrugged as he struggled to complete that thought. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

He coughed again and his mind flashed to the night he met her – a Halloween party at David’s apartment the year he moved to the States. He’d still been trying to wrap his brain around the idea of an adult fancy dress party when he’d spotted her. He’d seen her a couple times at a café not far from campus, but hadn’t known she knew David. She was wearing some get-up that looked to be a cross between a musketeer and a pirate, a sword belted at her waist. While her costume was nowhere near as revealing as the majority of the guests, something about the cinch of her vest and tight cut of her trousers had him itching to know how she might feel pressed up against him. The appeal of Halloween came very much into focus in that moment. 

Despite that initial pull, though, the friendship they struck up that night had remained just that. There was a teasing, flirting edge to it at times. And, oh, how he wanted to push sometimes, to see what was beneath it, but timing never seemed to work in their favor.

“Are you saying _you_ have thought about it?” he asked, knowing she’d see it for the obvious dodge it was. He rubbed his own toe against the arch of her bare foot while he waited for her answer.

She rested both her elbows on the table, circling both hands around the glass that sat before her. Pursing her lips, she finally offered him a vague. “Here and there.”

Trying to swallow down the rush of thoughts flooding him along with the want to know more, he ran his hand over hers, curving it with hers around her glass. She let go and turned a hand to slide her palm along his, curling her fingers around his wrist.

Knowing he may live to regret it, but worrying that he’d regret it more if he didn’t, he asked, “How would it work if we did?”

She ran her other hand along the arm of the wrist she held. “We could figure it out as we go along.”

He swallowed and teased his fingers along the underside of her wrist. “True, but it might be best if we have some ground rules.”

“Ok,” she agreed, and after a few beats, she continued, “Let’s start with complete honesty. This only works if we both want it. As soon as it doesn’t – for either of us, for any reason – we say so.”

“Fair enough.” He moved his hand from her wrist up to her face, capturing her chin and running his thumb along the dimple there. “Our friendship remains foremost. Movies, nights out, those remain. This doesn’t work for me if I lose that. Anything else is bonus and we are forthright about wanting it. If the other declines, we don’t put a strop on about it.”

Emma leaned in, hovering her lips inches from his. “Got it. And this stays between us. No Belle, no Robin, or David and Mary Margaret. I don’t need grief from any of them.”

“No argument from me, love,” he whispered, moving his hand up her jaw back to the nape of her neck. He pulled her in and ghosted his lips over hers a couple times, waiting until she followed him before increasing the pressure, pressing his lips to hers. She kissed him back, moving a hand to his neck and carding her fingers through the hair curled over his collar.

They remained like that, leaning across the table, trading soft kisses for a few minutes. When they finally broke apart, Emma stood and pushed back her chair as she declared, “The rest we can figure out later.” She made her way down the hall, turning her head to glance at him over her shoulder as she did. “Coming?” she asked as she turned the corner.

By the time he gathered himself up, the hall was empty save the pool of her shirt outside his bedroom. He swallowed and followed in her wake, thumbing at the buttons of his own shirt as he did. He stopped outside the room, taking a breath and wondering if he was being ten sorts of foolish. He steadied himself and entered the room. Resting against the doorway, he watched Emma settle on the edge of his bed. She was wearing a sheer, white bra and her hand was skirting the button of her jeans. Looking up, she crooked a finger at him and he followed helplessly.

He sat next to her, skirting his hand along her belly and leaning in to recapture her lips. She pulled his lower one between hers, nipping as he threaded his other hand into her hair. She shimmied further up the bed and he followed, pressing her down into the mattress as he did. He slid his tongue along her lips and into her mouth, curling around her own. As he did he shifted his hand down, his fingers popping open her jeans and pulling at the zipper. He thumbed at the band of her underwear and hooked a finger underneath to run along the soft skin there.

Emma gave a whimper and he moved from her lips to kiss along her jaw and down her neck. She shifted as he did, lifting her hips and pushing her jeans over her hips, kicking them down and off her legs. He pulled back to finish opening his shirt, rolling it from his shoulders as he did. Once it fell behind him, Killian traced a finger up along the scalloped edge of her bra, following along the top of her breast to then slip under the strap and nudge it off her shoulder. “Again, a bloody idiot,” he whispered as he bent down and traced his lips along the same path. “So gorgeous.”

“Don’t want to talk about him,” she breathed. She twisted her hand behind her back and opened the clasp. Killian pushed her bra the rest of the way off, tossing it with the rest of their clothes before running his thumb over her hardening nipple. He watched it tighten further under his touch, and Emma bit down on her lip as it did.

“Like that?” he asked. When she nodded, he circled her areola before pulling the bud between his thumb and index finger. She arched against him and he pulled the other between his teeth, flicking his tongue and coaxing another whimper from her. He grinned as he shifted his mouth to her other breast, continuing to tease and catalog her responses.

When she cried out and ground herself against his thigh after he gave a particularly rough tug of her nipple between his teeth, he laughed in delight. “Oh, Swan,” he said, pulling back to smile at her, “we are going to have so much fun together.” He moved a hand back to tug at her underwear. “I’ve barely even touched you and you are ready to come.” He kissed down her belly as he pushed them down her legs. Smoothing his hands back up her calves once they were removed, he nosed along the crease at her thigh. “I bet if I just –”

“Shut –”

Not letting either of them complete their thought, Killian flicked his tongue across her clit causing her to arch further and moan. He then pressed his tongue flat, enjoying the pulse beneath it as he did. He continued to lick and nip, her clit swelling against him. He slid his hands up both her thighs, opening her further to him. When his hands reached her apex, he moved his thumbs towards her center and hovering one with a ghost of pressure at her entrance. When she thrust up, he moved his other hand to hold her down, smirking as he curled his tongue harder against her. Feeling her thighs shudder and her clit throb, he gathered it between his teeth and bit lightly as he pushed his thumb inside of her.

Emma gave a shout and threaded her hand in his hair, pulling as she came. He continued to tongue at her as he felt her shift, rolling her hips to push further against him as she did. When she finally stilled, he pulled back to shuck his trousers before coming back to cradle himself between her legs, dragging his cock against her, sliding in the dampness he found there. He pushed up further to reach for the bedside table, scrambling for a condom.

“Fuck,” she muttered, running her hand through her hair and pulling it from its now mussed ponytail. He settled back down in front of her and thrusting against her again before rolling the condom down his length.

“Indeed,” he replied with a smile. He moved his hands back to her knees. “Sit up, love,” he requested with a caress to her thigh. “Want you to tuck your legs up so you are sitting with your knees out and feet under you.” She cocked her head but followed his instruction. When she was settled, he wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed along her collarbone. He moved his hand to her stomach and pressed so that she leaned back on her elbows.

“There’s a good lass,” he said as he gripped his length and watched her lay spread before him, her hair pooling on the sheets behind her. He was once again struck by how beautiful she was, wanted to again tell her but the alcohol coursing through him made the words feel muddled. He hoped, instead, he could make her feel it.

He placed a hand over her mound, his fingers splaying across the soft skin below her navel before dragging them down to ghost over her folds. She whimpered as he reached up to run his hands along the sides of her breasts and down her stomach while he thrust against her once again, teasing himself against her clit with the motion. Groaning as he pulled back, he rested one hand on her thigh and he lined himself up at her entrance before pressing in with a few short, shallow thrusts. When she whispered his name as he finally sank to his base, he closed his eyes to steady himself before pulling back and driving back in with more force.

He gripped her other thigh as he pressed forward to repeat the motion, angling himself forward so his weight dragged against her clit as he did so again. He was rewarded with a string of breathy nonsense as Emma attempted to thrust up to meet him from her confined position. He leaned back and continued with to move, shifting to press his palm over where he moved within her. She tightened around him as he did, pulling him deeper.

“So fucking good, Emma. So tight and wet.” He shifted his thumb down to her clit, swiping it across the tight bud as he continued. “So good. Want to feel what it’s like to have you come around me. Can you do that for me, love?”

“Oh, fuck, Killian,” she breathed. 

He brushed his thumb against her in response, working it in tight circles, feeling her tighten around him as he did. “That’s it.” Picking up the pace of his thrusts to match, she tensed beneath him just as her walls contracted. He closed his eyes and slowed his pace as she cried out, not wanting to come until she finished.

Once she relaxed, he deepened his thrusts, letting her aftershocks pull him with her. He tightened his grip on her thigh and stilled as he felt his own orgasm rip through him. Tilting his head back, he gave a hoarse shout as it did, the intensity of it despite the cloud of rum from their earlier drinking taking him by surprise.

When he withdrew, he shifted to stretch out along the bed and she unfolded her legs and flopped on the pillow next to him.

“God, Killian, that was…” She trailed off with a satisfied sounding sigh.

He grinned and turned to her. “I know.” He reached down to pull off the condom, tying it off before leaning in to her to pepper a few kisses along her shoulder. She gave another sigh and he trailed his nose down the same path. “We should try that again, without all the rum,” he mumbled into her shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” she drawled. “After that, I’m kinda curious to see what you’re like with a bit of tequila in you.”

Killina snorted, remembering their trip out to Mary Margaret’s family cabin last summer. “You’ve seen me with tequila.”

“I know,” she said with a smirk, turning to trail a finger across his stomach. “But this time I might get bonus nakedness.”

“I don’t know, Swan.” His own smile widened. “I seem to recall last time involving some nakedness.”

She smacked his arm. “You know what I meant.”

He laughed and pushed himself up off the bed to dispose of the condom. When he returned to the room, he let out a breath when he found her wrapped up beneath his sheets. She was curled on her side with her back to him, a pillow and arm beneath her head. He pulled back the coverings and slipped in behind her. Wrapping an arm around her, he tucked her back against him and settled his hand against her stomach. “Thank you, Swan.”

“For what?” she whispered.

He shrugged and pulled her tighter to him as he tried to figure out how to put his thoughts into words. “For this. All of it. Know that I don’t take it lightly, that there is nothing that’s just anything about it.” He pressed a kiss to her back, hoping she understood what he meant and to keep her from panicking at his words. “So thanks for being my friend.”

“Are you getting sappy on me, Jones?” she teased, snuggling down further against him.

He laughed and kissed her neck, relieved that she didn’t pull away. “One of my charms.” He kissed her again. “G’night, Emma.”

She threaded her fingers between his at her belly. “Night, Killian.”


	4. October-November

Sunday morning arrived with sunlight too bright for the willowy curtains covering Killian’s broad bedroom windows to block. Emma yanked a pillow over her head in a desperate bid to stave off waking for another few minutes. She didn’t need to turn to know Killian wasn’t with her. Even if she hadn’t crashed at his house enough to know he woke disturbingly early in the morning, the lack of heat at her back would have been signal enough that she was alone.

She stretched and debated the merits of allowing herself to drift back to sleep versus getting up in search of coffee. She had the three hour commute back to Portland, but there was nothing pulling her back in any particular hurry. So she lingered, curling her toes in the soft sheets and wondering if she should feel awkward about everything that transpired.

It wasn’t like they had really thought it through; the rum had done much of the thinking for them. There were a million ways it could have gone – could still go – all pear-shaped. But it hadn’t. Sex with Killian had been light and fun, two friends teasing and challenging one another, pulling enjoyment from one another and giving as much in return. She felt content, and sated, and a million miles from the usual knot in the pit of her stomach she had during mornings after. If she were willing to be an introspective woman, she’d wonder at that instead. However, she knew that path was a dangerous one and she was choosing to just let herself have this.

At that, she sat up and kicked back the sheets, scanning the room for her clothes to find Killian had piled them in the chair in the corner of the room. _Of course he did_ , she thought with a laugh. Throwing her shirt on, she dug around his dresser and found a pair of his pajama pants. She pulled them on, rolling the waistband a couple times in an effort to keep them from falling down her hips, and went out in search of coffee.

She found Killian sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in one hand as he poked at the tablet screen in front of him. She made her way to the counter, pulling a mug from the cabinet overhead, and poured herself a cup as well. Before she could step back to join him, he came up behind her, winding an arm around her waist as he pressed in. She smiled and ran her free hand along his arm.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey, yourself,” she said back, resting her head back against his shoulder.

“Nice pajamas,” he teased, fingering the waistband of the pants she wore.

Emma turned and grinned up at him. “I thought you might like them.”

He laughed and leaned in, giving her a brief kiss before making his way back to his seat. “There’s bacon in the oven, if you want any,” he called over his shoulder.

She groaned and pulled the oven door open. “Bless you,” she said as she leaned over and inhaled. Grabbing the plate he’d left out for her, she picked up four strips before following him back to the island and settling into the stool next to him.

They sat quietly as Emma worked her way through her bacon and eventually poured them both a second cup of coffee. Killian continued to scroll through his tablet, turning it to her on occasion to share some of the ridiculous photos Robin and Will posted the night before as well as an article about sunset tours at the Observatory.

“Is that your way of saying you’d like to go?” she asked as she sipped at the last of her coffee.

He smiled as he stood up and cleared their plates. “You willing to take a Thursday evening off the world of stakeouts to accompany me?”

“I’ll see if I can pencil you in,” she replied with a wink.

After piling everything into the dishwasher, he turned to her. “What time do you need to head out?” he asked.

Emma sighed and looked at the time on her phone. “As much as I’d like to spend the day lounging in front of the fireplace here, I’ve still got some trace work to do before I go into the office tomorrow.”

Killian nodded as wiped his hand on a dish towel before making his way back over to her. She stood as he approached, stepping into his space. “We should do that again some time,” she teased. He settled his hands on her hips, slipping his fingertips below the rolled waistband as his thumbs stroked her hipbones. “And what, exactly, is that, Swan?” he asked with a nudge of his nose along hers.

She huffed and twined her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through the ends of his hair. “If I have to remind you –”

He cut her off with a nip to her neck. “Was it that?” he asked.

Before she could respond, he shifted so one leg slid between hers as he pressed her back again the fridge. “Maybe it was this?” He punctuated the question a roll of his hips, grazing just to the side of where she wanted him. “Or maybe,” he continued, “it was this.” He pulled back and flicked at the top few buttons of her shirt, moving his fingers to roll a now exposed nipple. She sighed and arched into the touch.

“But if you have to go, Swan,” he said, stepping back and turning towards the hall.

“Jerk,” she muttered.

He laughed. “I was only going to suggest you join me in the shower, love. Move things along, as it were.” He gave a little wave as he continued down hall to his bedroom, stripping off his t-shirt as he went.

Emma shook her head. “I might like this new side of you,” she called after him, hurrying to open the last of the buttons on her shirt and rolling it off before she raced after him.

*

When panic hadn’t set in while she was wrapped up in Killian’s sheets, Emma fully expected it would be her companion on her drive home. She’d fucked Killian Jones, and was pretty sure she planned to do it again. Both were facts that should have sent her into a tailspin. This was one of her closest friends, a man who’d knew some of the worst parts of her past, who was witness to a good many of them, and had once been an embarrassingly recurrent role in some of her more vivid fantasies.

So when all she experienced was a bit of traffic and her usual Storybrooke to Portland solo karaoke routine, she assumed it would come on later.

Only later never happened.

Her week and the one that followed were much the same as most. There was the usual slew of skip tracing and the paperwork that came with, the occasional night out with Elsa, the marathon phone conversations with Mary Margaret, and the regular banter with Killian via text and Twitter. If she didn’t know any better, it was almost like she hadn’t slept with him.

Except she had, and now mixed between the odd forwarding of a news clip and the usual teasing about her coffee intake, her weird hours, or occasional fake dates were texts from him that bordered on salacious. And she liked it. May have even encouraged it. Killian seemed to know how to wind her up and leave a thrum of want beneath her skin. Like now. She should have been walking out the door and instead she was standing in front of her bedroom mirror taking photos of herself to send him.

_Let’s see it, Swan._

_See what?_ She heard her phone buzz again as she worked to get the last of the pins into her hair.

_I want to see the little number you’ve got on to keep him occupied._

She took a shot of her foot wrapped in a spiked, strappy heel and sent that.

“Who are you texting?”

Emma jumped and almost tripped on said heels. She turned to find Elsa leaning in her doorway, a smile forming at the corner of her mouth.

“No one,” she replied and busied herself with readjusting the straps of her dress. Her phone buzzed again and she saw Elsa’s smile morph into a smirk in the mirror.

Emma glanced down at the phone to read Killian’s reply. _Nice. But I have to imagine you’re wearing more than a pair of shoes out. Unless…_

She could almost see the play of his tongue against his top lip that had to come with that message. Knowing full well that Elsa was watching her and she’d pay a price later, she replied, _Don’t you have work to do?_

_Done for the day. Not all of us keep vampire hours. Now stop stalling._

She took a close cropped photo of her shoulder, capturing the strap of her dress down to where it joined the fabric curving over her breast, and hit send. Pretending not to notice Elsa’s arched eyebrow at the proceedings, she finished applying her lipstick.

“It’s nothing, Els.”

“Bullshit.” Elsa lunged to grab the phone off her dresser as it vibrated again. Emma cut her off at the pass, putting her back between Elsa and the phone.

_Getting warmer. Though that is a nice view. Feel free to send it again later. Perhaps with a glimpse of what’s underneath._

Emma grinned and shoved her phone in her purse. “I’ve got to go. I’m already late.” She slid past Elsa and picked up her coat off the back of the couch as she made her way to the front door.

“Don’t think for one minute that I believe that little back and forth was for the benefit of the skip you are about to meet,” Elsa called after her.

Emma groaned as the door shut behind her. Pulling out her phone as she went down the stairs, she fired off one last message to Killian. _Remind me to kill you later._

*

In the end, she was fifteen minutes late for the date.

Luckily, it worked to her advantage as the mark was on his second drink by the time she arrived. When the host let them know their table was ready, her short skirt provided enough distraction for Emma to cuff and lead him out all without having sit through any dull conversation. She would remind herself to thank Killian, but was pretty sure he’d be insufferable if she did.

All of which was how she found herself climbing the last of the stairs to her apartment, balancing her shoes, purse, and a celebratory pizza in one hand as she rooted around for her keys with the other. And completely unaware of the man sitting at her front door.

“Oh, love, I don’t think you should have removed those shoes.”

She jumped, nearly dumping the pizza and the contents of her purse on the floor. “Wha–?” She looked up to find Killian on the floor, propped up against her door with his legs crossed in front of him and a cat ate the canary expression on his face.

“Movie night is on Friday,” was her nonsensical reply.

“So?” he asked, pushing himself up with one hand.

“That’s two days from now,” she continued, still not processing him standing before her.

“Pizza’s getting cold, Swan.” He titled his chin towards her hands. “Planning to let us inside?”

She skirted past him and gave him a pointed look. “And when did you get so bossy about what I wore?”

He smiled and crowded her up against the wall, taking the pizza and her shoes from her hand. “Since I found you quite like when I tell you what to do.” He dropped a kiss to her collarbone and stepped back, giving her space to let them into her apartment.

Once Emma opened the door, she dumped her coat and purse on the table by the door before moving to allow him in. She made her way to the living room as he closed the door behind them.

“So you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked.

Killian shrugged and slid the pizza onto the coffee table as he dropped her shoes to the floor. “I had a meeting with a client at a site in Bristol, thought I’d take advantage and stop to see you on my way home.”

She smiled as he sat down on the couch, toeing off his shoes in the process. “An hour away? In the wrong direction?” she asked, watching him pull his tie loose. She straddled his lap when he finished, grabbing both ends of the opened tie and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Perhaps it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen you and I’ve been hard since you sent the photo of those shoes,” he said when they finally broke apart. He licked at his lips before dipping his head to trace his tongue along her neck, moving to suck at a spot just behind her ear. He pulled her earlobe between his teeth as he moved his hands up her thighs, slipping his hands beneath her dress and curling his fingers in the waist of her underwear. Emma moaned when he tugged on the fabric and let go of his tie, moving her hands to his shoulders to grind herself against his lap. He released her ear and whispered, “Perhaps I thought you wouldn’t mind if I stopped by to see if you were amenable to helping me out with that.”

Emma pulled back and grinned down at him. “Perhaps.”

Killian shifted one hand from under her dress to skim along a strap. He plucked at it as he gave a small nod with his chin. “I believe you promised me a look underneath.”

Emma laughed. “I did no such thing,” she huffed, but moved her hands to both straps, sliding them down her arms. He ran his finger down between her breasts as she did, hooking a finger in the gathered fabric and pulling it the rest of the way to expose her to him.

His eyebrow did that jumping thing it did when he was amused and she had to bite her lip to keep her grin under control.

“No bra, Swan?” he teased. “Must be a tick inconvenient when you have to give chase.”

She intercepted his hands as they moved to touch her, threading her fingers between his and pushing them back towards his chest. “Helps keep them from running in the first place,” she taunted as she leaned in.

He hummed, blowing a whisper of breath across her lips.

“Pizza’s getting cold,” she said, echoing his earlier statement as she moved off his lap to stand in front of him. She pulled to have him follow and he shifted to tug her off balance before standing.

“Let it.” He grinned as he stepped into her space. Unwinding his hands from hers, he grabbed at her waist and pulled her over his shoulder with a laugh.

*

It was still dark when she woke. She took a breath and felt Killian’s fingers run along her breastbone.

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching and tangling her legs with his.

“Early,” he whispered as he dragged his fingernails back across her nipple. He pressed against the still tender flesh and she sighed, arching into him. He traced a pattern along the underside of her breast before trailing down to stroke her stomach.

“Killian,” she moaned. She reached back to card her fingers in his hair, angling his head so that his nose was buried in her neck. He took her cue and began kissing along her shoulder to her spine, working his fingers down between her folds as he did. She tightened her grip and was about to cry out again when she heard the sound of the front door closing and quiet footsteps in the hallway.

They both froze until they heard Elsa shut her bedroom door. Killian stared to move his hand to her hip but Emma reached down and pressed him back between her legs. “Don’t have to stop,” she said as she rubbed her clit with both of their fingers. Biting her lip to steady her breath a moment, she continued, “Just need to be quiet. Think you’re capable of that, tiger?”

“Oh, Swan.” He chuckled as he kissed her ear. “I can be a church mouse should the situation call for it.” He slid his fingers down to circle at her entrance, pushing two inside with a sharp thrust. “Question is can you?” He crooked his fingers as he finished the question, and she hiccupped when she tried to strangle her answering cry.

“That’s not how David tells it,” she panted, grinding back against him and enjoying the low hum he gave as she did.

“Not one of my finer years,” he said in a hushed tone while continuing to stroke within her. “Like to think I’ve learnt something about discretion since then.”

She shifted her neck so that he could see her smirk. “I don’t think he was able to look Ruby in the eye until months after you two broke up.”

He grinned back and pressed his cock between her ass. “Conversation for another time, love?” Emma gave another sigh as he thrust against her and then turned to face him, causing his fingers to slip from her. She pushed against his shoulder, nudging him onto his back as she straddled him. She rested a finger on his lips as she heard Elsa padding around again, and reached to grab a condom with her free hand.

Tearing at the package, she leaned back and rolled it down his cock, wrapping her hand around it once it was in place and giving a few pumps. Then lining him up at her entrance, she sank down on him, slowly taking him in inch by inch. She glanced up to find Killian staring at himself sliding into her, biting down on his lip as he met her with a few shallow thrusts of his own.

“Fuck, love. I could watch that all day. Seeing you wrap around my cock, feeling how you pull me in. Seeing how wet I am when I slide out, knowing that I do that to you.”

Emma shuddered and bit her lip again as she placed her hands on his chest. “Church mouse, remember?” she whispered.

Then shifting her knees, she gave a few tentative thrusts, trying to establish a rhythm for them. Killian gripped her hips as she did and she righted herself above him, letting him take control of her movements and their pace. She moved her hands down his stomach and along her thighs before bringing them up to cup her own breasts. She locked eyes with him and she rolled her nipples between her fingers, allowing a soft moan as she did.

Killian gave a pointed roll of his hips, pulling her down to him roughly. Emma grinned and continued to play with her breasts, tipping her head back to give a silent cry as the sensations ran down her spine and settled between her thighs. She tried to adjust her angle to give her clit some friction when he grabbed her arms and flipped their positions. He slipped from her as he did but he quickly settled himself back between her legs and sank back in with a deep thrust.

Emma wrapped her legs around him, digging her heel into his ass as he gripped her wrists, pushing them above her head. He leaned in so that he dragged along her clit with each thrust of his punishing pace. The grin he gave when she caught his eye in the gleam from the streetlight was a challenging smirk, goading her to not cry out at the overload that was him against her clit, the head of his cock dragging along her walls, and the press of his chest on her own.

When she finally fell, she had to wrench her arm from his grasp to bite down on her fist in order to keep from shouting as her orgasm tore through her. When she came back to herself, she wasn’t sure how much time elapsed, but Killian was wrapping his hand around that fist. He moved it to her side as he rested his forehead against her own.

“Hey,” she whispered, running her free hand through his already ridiculously disheveled hair.

He smiled and rubbed his nose against hers. “And here I was simply aiming for some lazy, woken in the middle of the night sex.”

She laughed, burying her head against his chest to muffle the sound.

He withdrew, peeling the condom away before rolling off the bed. “Think it’s clear?” he asked with a nod towards her door.

She shook her head. “There’s a trash bin by the closet.” She pulled the duvet back over herself and watched him try not to trip as he made his way over.

He crawled back into bed to join her a moment later, and she turned so he could curl up behind her, his arm slung over her waist. “I’m going to have to leave in a couple of hours, I’ll try not to wake you when I go,” he said against her temple. She nodded and closed her eyes, burrowing against him and his warmth. “I’ll be back Friday night, assuming that’s still ok.”

She nodded again, the heat of his skin and her boneless state making her feel slow and sleepy. She felt his lips against her head as she drifted back to sleep.

*

When she woke again, Killian was gone and there was clattering in the kitchen. Emma got up and pulled on the first sweater and pair leggings she found on her floor and went out to join Elsa in her breakfast foraging.

Elsa didn’t say anything when Emma entered, just pushed a steaming coffee mug across the counter to her. Emma grunted her thanks and cradled her hands around it as she sat at the table, while Elsa picked a few bagels out of the bag on the counter, splitting and tossing them into the toaster.

After a few minutes of watching the toaster, she turned to Emma and asked, “Was that Killian who spent the night?”

Emma squinted at her.

Elsa rolled her eyes. “There was a pair of men’s shoes by the couch when I got home and I thought I saw his car out front when I came in.”

“And what were you doing sneaking in at 2 AM anyway?” Emma dodged.

“Nope. We aren’t discussing me at the moment.”

Emma huffed. “We aren’t discussing anything until I’ve finished my coffee.”

Elsa grabbed the bagels when they popped along with some cream cheese and the coffee carafe and joined her at the table. She refilled Emma’s cup once she sat. Setting it back down, she sat back and crossed her arms, tilting her chin in a movement that clearly told Emma to stop stalling.

“It’s not like that,” she lied.

Elsa gave her a look that clearly said she wasn’t buying it. “And why not?”

Emma picked up the milk carton and stared at the nutrition information panel. “Maybe it could have been, once,” she said with a shrug. Putting the carton down, she looked over at Elsa. “We met not long after Neal left. I was a mess then. I’m frankly surprised we became friends given what a pain in the ass I was.”

Elsa nodded as she opened the cream cheese packet and spread some over one of the bagels before passing it to Emma.

Emma nodded her thanks and continued, “By the time I thought I was ready again, he and Ruby were busy doing whatever it was they were doing and I met Walsh.” She took a few sips of her coffee before finishing, “You know how that ended.”

Elsa sighed and bit into her own bagel. When she finished chewing, she asked, “What does any of that have to do with now?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged again. “I mean, if I couldn’t make it work with August – one of the most easygoing guys in the world – what makes you think I can make it work with anyone?”

“You can’t be serious.” Elsa dropped her mug to the table and gave her an incredulous look. “You think you were the problem with you and August?”

Emma furrowed her eyebrows and stared at her own cooling coffee.

“I’ve heard you say a lot of bullshit over the years, Emma, but that takes the cake.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Elsa pushed her chair from the table and stood. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you.” Wrapping the uneaten portion of her bagel in a paper towel, she continued, “Especially when we both should be getting ready for work. But just promise me you won’t write off the idea of being with Killian. You two work really well together. I’d kill for a relationship like that.”

Emma sank down in her chair, tilting her head against the back as Elsa left the kitchen. She wiped her hand across her eyes and wished desperately to rewind a couple hours.


	5. January

Killian was awake but reluctant to open his eyes. He knew the air outside the nest of his sheets would be cold and if the forecast was right, the sky outside would be blanketing the bay in a thick, grey cloud cover. Plus, there was the unexpected gift in the form of the women curled into his side, her head resting against his chest and strands of her hair tickling his nose. He smiled when her fingers twitched against his stomach, and let himself a moment to skate his hand along her waist to the flare of her hip.

If it weren’t for the fact that he had no idea when she arrived combined with knowing his alarm was about to go off, he’d be tempted to stay where he was for as long as he could. With her in his bed, he was keen to while away the better part of his Saturday right here. He was loathe to wake her though. She’d been complaining of a heavier than normal workload the past few weeks, long hours doing research for her cases followed by late nights cooped up in her Bug as she tailed after them. 

So he stretched his legs and gently pulled his arm from beneath her, kissing her forehead as she grumbled and resettled against his pillow. Wishing he could use incoming threat of snow to cancel the meeting he and Belle had set with a client, Killian shuffled over to the windows and tugged the shades down to block the morning light from filtering through. 

When he returned home that afternoon, he found Emma still asleep but in his living room. She was sitting upright on the chaise with her legs tucked beneath her and a book laying abandoned in her lap. Killian thought about trying to move her, not wanting her to wake with a kink in her neck if he didn’t, but much like that morning he remained loathe to disturb her. Instead he dropped the groceries he’d picked up on his way home on the kitchen island, and went to pull the blanket from the back of the couch, shaking it out as he made his way to her. He bent to slip the book from under her hand and laid the blanket over her. She stirred but didn’t seem to wake, so he ghosted his lips across her temple before he went back to the kitchen.

Outside the snow fell around them, coating the tree branches and limbs in a thick cover. The utter stillness it created beyond the windows felt like a cocoon enveloping them, and he wondered selfishly if it might cause Emma to prolong her unexpected visit. Shaking his head, he busied himself with unpacking his purchases before returning to the living room to settle some wood in the fireplace. As he finished lighting the kindling, he heard her shuffle in the chair beside him.

“Hey,” she mumbled, stretching her arms above her head. He stayed crouched in the front of the fireplace, but turned to admire the way her hair began to unthread from the haphazard bun she’d knotted at the top of her head. A few tendrils escaped to frame her face and curl on her bare shoulder. “Where’d you go?”

“Meeting with a client to review plans before work starts next week.” Killian reached out and twisted one of the loose strands around a finger before moving to stroke underneath the strap of her camisole. “Didn’t know you were coming or I would have pushed to wrap that up last night.”

Emma shook her head as she righted herself, dislodging her blanket, causing it to pool around her lap. “Didn’t give you warning. Shouldn’t have assumed you’d be free.”

He stood and reached for her hands to pull her towards the couch. “You don’t need an invitation, love.” As the back of his calves hit the couch, he fell back into it, bringing her with him to straddle his lap.

“Still,” she protested.

He gripped his hands on her hips and she leaned back and crossed her arms in front of herself to pull off her camisole. Trailing his tongue along his lower lip, he tightened his hold as the swell of the underside of her breasts was exposed. “Swan, have I ever given you the impression that waking up with a beautiful woman in my bed was a burden?”

She laughed and he teased his hands against her ribcage as she continued to peel the fabric away. Once removed, she leaned back into him and dropped her shirt to the floor. “Was supposed drive up to catch a movie and drinks with Mary Margaret tonight. Thought it be fun to see you first. Didn’t think to account for the forecast when I left last night.”

He hummed and bent his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked on the soft, pink skin before pulling at the hardening bud with his teeth.

Emma gasped as he bit down. “She’d never let me come up in this weather, and I don’t exactly want to tell her I’m already….” She trailed off as he brought his hand to her other breast, palming and squeezing her before circling his thumb around the tip.

“True,” he drawled before turning his head to follow his hand, running his nose up the side of her breast and across her nipple. He then swiped his tongue along it with a few swift flicks and she ground against him in response. Closing his eyes, he drew back against the back of the couch as his hands moved down her back and settled on her ass. “Wouldn’t want to let on that you’re consorting with scoundrels in your spare time, would you?” He slipped his hands beneath her boxers and pressed down on the smooth skin as he thrust against her, the buzzing beneath his skin already building at the feel of her heat through his trousers.

“That what we’re calling it?” she teased. Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it loose and then working her way up, slowly unbuttoning it as she went.

“What? Do you prefer fucking you into oblivion?” After few of the lower buttons were undone, she slipped her hands underneath and threaded her fingers through his chest hair. Killian sighed and continued, “Though if you keep touching me like that, we can call it whatever you like, whenever you like.” When she scratched her fingernails along his nipples, Killian pushed his own hands down further, reaching to graze the tips of his fingers at the edge of her folds. Her hands tensed as he did and Killian bit back a grin.

Wanting to take his time, he moved his hands to her back, pressing along the ridges of her spine as he did. Then threading one hand through her hair, he angled her head and pulled her down into a kiss. She sighed against him and not waiting for her invitation, he urged his tongue past her lips to drag along her own. She pressed back in a warm, slow slide and he stroked and curled back along hers, getting lost in a game of call and response.

Struggling for breath, Killian pulled back and shifted his hips to turn and press her back into the couch. Emma reached up and twisted her fingers into his shirt, working open the last few buttons as he braced his arms against the arm of the couch on either side of her head. He gave a few experimental thrusts of his hips, trying to line himself along her clit. When she whimpered, her hands faltering and then falling to his waist as she wrapped a leg around his hip, he circled his hips again, enjoying the breathy moans he elicited.

Feeling the dull throb at the base of his cock tighten, Killian pulled back again. Emma glanced up at him and started to protest, but stopped when he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He grinned and looped his fingers around his belt buckle, rocking back on his heels and giving a tilt of his chin towards her shorts. The corner of her mouth quirked and she lifted her hips, pushing her boxers down her hips and to the floor. Sitting up, she splayed her legs and ran her hands down her thighs. Killian groaned as he fumbled with his belt and pulled at his fly, opening it just enough to relieve the press of the fabric against his cock. He watched Emma’s hands trail back up her inner thighs, the fingers of one settling along either side of her folds, drawing them back to open herself to him.

Killian growled and pulled his cock from his briefs, squeezing his hand around the base before giving a few languid strokes. “That’s it, Swan. Love when you’re on display for me. All pretty and pink and wet. You’ve no idea of all the things it makes me want to do.”

She groaned and brought her free hand to her mouth, wrapping her tongue around two of her fingers and sucking them in. He circled his thumb and index finger around the head of his cock as he continued to watch, rolling them over the ridge and pulling back his foreskin before twisting and repeating the motion. He continued until she slipped her fingers from her mouth and pressed them to her exposed entrance, slipping them in and giving a few short, shallow strokes.

Pushing his trousers and underwear the rest of the way down, he stepped out of them and crossed back to her. When he reached her, he knelt between her legs and gripped the back her knees. “Go on, love. Fuck yourself properly on those fingers. Show me what it is you do on those nights in Portland when I’m not there to give you what you need.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the couch as she followed his instructions, pushing deep and pulling back before repeating the motions over again.

He kissed up her inner thigh, resting his cheek against her when he reached the space just below her hands, watching as her fingers slid all the way to the hilt. He breathed in, enjoying the scent of her as she started to rock in time with her fingers. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “Crook your fingers,” he asked with a brush of his nose against the back of the hand inside her. “Find that spot you like.” She changed the angle of her strokes, and he could feel the muscles of her thigh contract as she did.

When her other hand drifted to her clit, he reached up and laced his fingers through hers, pulling her hand aside. “Uh uh, Swan, that's mine.” He emphasized his claim with a quick sweep of his tongue over the swollen skin, causing her to jerk against him.

“Killian,” she whined.

He grinned before leaning towards her, breathing out across the sensitive skin. She squeezed the hand holding hers.

“Please,” she tried again.

“Please what?” he teased, moving his tongue down the crease of her thigh, brushing just to the side of her folds. When she growled, he made his way back to her clit, letting go of her hand in order to use his fingers to open her to him. He flattened his tongue and massaged against her before dipping down to slide along her fingers as she fucked herself on them. When he moved back to her clit and pulled it between his teeth, she clenched him between her thighs and came with a hoarse shout. He continued with a few soft, drawn out sweeps of his tongue until she jerked, the sensations too much in the aftermath.

“That what you wanted, love?” he asked as he pulled back, sliding her fingers from where they had stilled inside her and guiding them to his mouth. She shook her head as he worked his tongue around her fingers, cleaning her arousal from them. When he finished he leaned up a bit, grabbing hold of her thighs.

“You wanted something more?” She nodded and he bit back groan. “Then be a good lass and turn around,” he said with a nudge of his hands towards her waist. “Put your elbows up on the back of the couch.” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow but did as he asked. He moved up behind her, resting his knees on either side of hers and sliding his cock through her wet folds with a groan. Turning his attention to run his fingers along her sides, he ghosted his fingers along the sides of her breasts, enjoying how she arched as he did. He moved to cup her more fully, bending to nose along the shell of her ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth. “Don’t worry, Emma,” he whispered when he released her. She sighed and rocked against him. “It’s not often I get a snow day with my very beautiful, very wanton and willing to please friend, and I intend to take full advantage.”

*

They spent the remainder of the afternoon wrapped together in much the same manner. When Emma called Mary Margaret in order to reschedule their plans for the following weekend, Killian did his best to behave as they spoke. But when he found her still naked and stretched out on his bed, sliding a foot along her calf and laughing at something Mary Margaret was nattering on about, it was all too much. He climbed in with her, grabbing a hold of her ankle and kissing and nipping his way up her leg. When he reached the inside of her thigh, he bit down, intent on sucking a mark into the pale skin. The sharp intake of breath she gave while trying to answer some question posed to her emboldened him further and he inched up towards her center.

When she didn’t protest, he wondered how far he could push before she either hung up or kicked him off the bed. So he pressed in, delving a finger between her folds before following the same path with his tongue, lapping at the arousal that had begun gather. Emma wrapped a leg around him, digging her heel between his shoulders to pull him closer. He tried and failed not to groan as he followed her silent instruction. When he glanced up and found her glaring at down him, he held her gaze as he gave a slow, pointed lick up to her slit. She arched back into the pillows and closed her eyes as she turned her head away from him, offering Mary Margaret an abrupt and weak excuse to end the call then tossing her phone to the far corner of the bed.

By that evening Killian was sore and sated, feeling content beyond any reasonable measure. He puttered around the kitchen in his favorite blue and grey plaid sleep pants. He gathered ingredients for hot chocolate, suddenly intensely grateful for the discs of Mexican chocolate he’d picked up on a whim earlier in the week.

Waiting for the milk to heat, he looked back out into the living room. He loved this house and the view out beyond it, but at no point more so than at times like this. The wide, window-paned walls opened out onto the silent, snow and ice covered bay. The only light outside at this hour coming from the dim lanterns that lit along the path down to the water, revealing a still steady stream of snow falling around them. Not a soul was in sight except Emma, who was lounging naked on his furniture, lost in a book propped up against her bent knee. _A man could get used to this_ , he thought as she thumbed at a page.

Killian shuffled back over to the stove to stir in the chocolate, unwilling to poke further at that thought.

When the mugs were ready, he made his way over to where Emma sat, placing them on the table next to her. He ran his hand over her bare shoulder. “Budge up.”

Emma scooted to make room and he slipped behind her, snaking his arm around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He drew the blanket from the back of the couch over them before handing her a mug.

“Hmmm. You got the good stuff,” she said, her nose hovering over the lip of the mug.

Killian beamed into his own before taking a sip. “You can thank Belle. She walked me through her recipe.”

Emma hummed and took a sip. “That chili pepper?”

“Aye. Amongst other things. Too much?” he asked, caressing his thumb along her belly.

She shook her head. “It’s good,” she sighed before taking another sip. Killian settled his own mug back down and picked up the TV remote. “Still willing to dive into Outlander with me?”

Emma laughed and snuggled back further into his chest. “You’re on.”

*

His phone was buzzing against his bedside table and Killian wished he could silence it with a glare. He reached out with a groan to silence it, assuming it was an errant alarm. Instead he found his brother’s face smiling at him. He groaned again as he slid his thumb along the screen to answer, prying his other arm from beneath Emma’s pillow. “Liam?” he mumbled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and fished around for his sleep pants.

“Did I bollocks up the time difference again?” Liam asked, tilting his head to look at something off screen.

Killian ran his hand through his hair, doing his best to flatten the disarray that was staring back at him in the corner of the screen. “Pardon?” he whispered, closing the bedroom door behind him. 

“You’re not one for sleeping in, little brother.” 

Killian narrowed his eyes, but didn’t take the obvious bait. Instead he grabbed the blanket from where they’d abandoned it on the couch last night and wrapped it over his shoulders before plopping himself down in its place. 

“Assumed I miscalculated the hour,” Liam continued, seeming oblivious to Killian’s irritation at being woken. “But that’s not it. So what has you lounging about in bed well past sunrise?”

“Just a late night. Is there a point to this wake up call?”

“Can’t a bloke ring his only brother to see how he’s doing? Especially seeing as he hasn’t heard from him all week?”

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping the brief stab of pain would wake him. “He could, but I don’t see how that merits pulling me from bed.”

“Hold up.” Liam frowned. “Why _did_ you leave the bedroom? Do you have someone over?”

Killian sighed internally, realizing he had made a grave error in his caffeine-deprived state. “Astute observation there, Li, seeing as I normally creep about my own house while whispering into the phone at my idiot brother.”

“No need to get shirty,” he replied with a grin and Killian narrowed his eyes again. “I didn’t think you were seeing anyone. When did this happen? Who is she? Will I get to meet her next month?”

Killian held up his hand, hoping that blocking the screen would silence him. “It’s no one.”

Liam raised an eyebrow as Killian lowered his hand back down. He sighed and amended his answer. “It’s not like that.”

“No, no, no, no.” He wagged his finger at the screen. “You forget I know you, little brother. If she were no one, you wouldn’t have her at that house of yours.”

Killian frowned and ran his fingers back through his hair. “Just leave it be.”

Liam paused and peered at him through the screen. “Fine,” he said after a moment, “but don’t think we are done with this conversation.”

Killian glared. 

“Get some coffee in you and then ring me back. Want to discuss some details of my trip.”

“Fine,” Killian muttered back. “I’ll call you in a few hours.”

Liam smiled. “Hey, Killian?

Killian’s finger, hovering over the disconnect button, paused. “Aye?”

“Whoever she is, I hope she makes you smile.”

A memory from the night before – Emma’s pathetic attempt to imitate Jamie Fraser’s accent – flashed in his mind before he could help it. Knowing he shouldn’t, he answered, “She does, Li.”

‘Good’ was his only reply before he ended the call.

*

The snow continued unabated through Sunday with no signs of letting up, so he and Belle agreed to keep the office closed on Monday. Emma stayed put at his place, not wanting to attempt the drive back to Portland, so they continued their Outlander marathon. 

He peeled himself away from her for a few hours on Monday afternoon, moving to his office downstairs to focus on some floor plans he needed to finalize for a client by the end of the week. When he eventually came back up, he found Emma hunched over her laptop and camera at his dining room table, a few notebooks and two half-empty coffee mugs spread around her. 

He rested his hands on the back of her chair, peering over her shoulder as he placed a kiss to the top of her head. “What are you working on?”

She craned her head back to look up at him. “Needed to pull together some photos for a case for Graham. You get your plans done?”

“Mostly,” he replied, moving one hand to thread in her hair and scratch along her scalp. “Sent them to Belle for a final look over.

She stretched her head forward, tucking her chin to her chest. After a few minutes, she sighed and mumbled, “As good as this feels, I need another half hour or so to wrap this up.”

Killian grinned and shifted his free hand to caress her neck, tracing along the cords and skimming the hollow of her throat. 

“Killian,” she breathed. 

“Yes, love?” he asked, still scratching at her scalp while creeping his other hand down her sternum. 

“Thirty minutes. I swear.”

He dipped beneath the open collar of her shirt, fingering the edge of her bra and slipping a finger just below the fabric to ease along the swell of her breast. “You sure?” he whispered.

She reached up and circled both of his wrists with her hands, raising his arms above her head and shooting him a mock glare. “Can’t think when you’re touching me,” she whined.

“Really?” He extricated himself from her grip with a roll of his wrists. “I’ll need to keep that in mind.”

Emma turned back to her laptop without further response and he stepped back from the table and into the kitchen, intent on pulling out ingredients for pizza dough. 

He watched her as he kneaded out the dough, smiling when she wound her hair on top of her head and stuck one of her pens through the knot she created. Once he was done and wiped down the bowl to put the dough in to rise, he leaned back against the counter and continued to watch her work. Her thumb was tapping against table as she continued to sort photos, and he itched to wrap his fingers around hers to soothe the gesture. He wondered if she was like this all the time when she worked, or if it was the pots of coffee he kept her in. He wondered if he’d ever be given the opportunity to find out.

Killian dragged his hand down his chin, not taking his eyes off her as she fidgeted, and wondered when exactly it was that he had become well and truly fucked in regards to this woman.


	6. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your extreme patience in me getting this part out. Took far longer and more edits that I would have liked, but it is here now. Thanks for the words of encouragement and check ins!

“Swan. Swan. Swan. Swan! Swan!”

Emma cringed and pulled the phone from her ear. Thumbing at the volume as laughter continued in the background on the other side of the call, she brought the phone back towards herself with no small amount of trepidation.

“Yes, Killian?”

Elsa snorted beside her as he cried, “Swan!” again. “Why aren’t you here yet? Liam’s beginning to think you perhaps don’t like him.”

She laughed and pointed for Elsa to turn right into the parking lot of The Gull. “He just got there today. You two can’t possibly have had your fill of brotherly bonding, or whatever it is you repressed Brits do when getting together.”

“You’ve no idea,” he groaned. “It’s dreadful. He keeps making me drink. I need someone to distract him or my liver may not survive.”

She bit back a laugh and rolled her eyes as Elsa pulled into one of the open parking spaces. “Put Liam on, you idiot.” There was a series of muffled sounds followed by the rattle of what had to be one of them dropping the phone on the bar.

“Emma!” Liam boomed after another few moments. “Please tell me I get to see your lovely face before the jet lag does me in.”

Emma smiled as Elsa cut the engine. “By the sounds of it, I’m not sure you need me, unless it’s as a designated driver.”

“We can always use another pretty face.”

“Is that your way of saying Tink is already tired of your bullshit?” she asked as she and Elsa slipped from her car, pushing the doors closed behind them as quietly as they could.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Emma could hear the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth with those words. “Uh huh,” she replied. She grinned despite herself as she weaved with Elsa between the parked cars, passing Killian’s GTO on the way to the entrance. “I’ll see what I can do about getting to your neck of the woods sometime tonight.”

“You’d honestly leave me here all alone with this drunken oaf? I thought you loved me, Emma Swan.”

“Bye, Liam,” was her only answer as she swiped at her phone to end the call.

Elsa glanced over as Emma pulled open the door. “What’s with the subterfuge?”

“More fun this way.”

Stepping inside, Emma could see both Joneses at the end of the bar. Killian was swatting at Liam in a pathetic attempt to take back his phone while Liam nearly fell off his stool in his attempt to angle his arm from Killian’s reach.

“Boys!” she shouted loud enough to cause Liam to drop Killian’s phone. “I don’t think Tink has ever done anything to deserve the two of you acting like children at the end of her bar.”

“Finally!” Tink yelled. “I was getting desperate enough to call David out here.” She winked at Emma before turning and pulling down one of the whiskey bottles from the shelves lining the back of the bar.

Liam scrambled off his stool and took three large strides over to where they stood, wrapping Emma in a tight hug and spinning her around. She laughed and lifted her feet to allow the spin, genuinely happy to see him not through a screen for the first time in years. When he finally put her down, she turned and introduced Elsa to him.

In what she knew was a genetic incapacity to turn down the charm, Liam looped Elsa’s arm through his and led her off in the direction of Tink and the drinks that were already waiting for them. She was about to follow, and give shit to Liam for leaving her behind, when Killian’s hand slid along her elbow.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning her towards him, one hip swaying into her space.

She smiled. It had been a week since she’d seen him. Her current cases had all seemed to hit at the same time, leaving her to spend most nights that week tailing three of them while the background work for a fourth was taking more effort than she anticipated. At least one of her open bail skips had panned out, so there was the consolation of that check cashed.

But now, here in this bar, she wanted to close the last bit of distance between them, pull Killian in that last inch or two. She wanted to breathe in the scent of him at the crook of his neck, to kiss along his stubbled jaw and close in on his smiling lips. She wanted to say fuck it to the fact they had an audience. She wanted to say fuck it to pact in general.

She wanted him, plain and simple.

She looked up to find Killian grinning down at her, his eyes bright and his eyebrow quirked as his tongue poked at the corner of his mouth. She’d almost bet he knew what she was thinking and was goading her to act. She reached out and curled her hand in the open collar of his shirt, pulling him to her ever so slightly, only to be interrupted by a glass dangling in front of her face.

Irritation flashed across Killian’s eyes a moment before he schooled his expression. Emma turned to find Liam wrapping his free arm around Killian’s shoulder while holding a drink out to her.

“I rescued it for you,” Liam said. “Elsa was threatening to drink it for you, if you didn’t stop, I believe her words were, canoodling with my little brother here.”

“Oi!” Killian shouted, elbowing Liam.

“Is that so?” she said, looking over Liam’s shoulder and sticking her tongue out at both Elsa and Tink, who were offering her twin tiny waves from the bar. She knocked back the contents in one quick swallow and put the glass back in Liam’s hand. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get that refilled for me.”

Liam laughed and let go of Killian as he turned back to the bar, wagging the empty glass at Tink.

*

It took Killian less than an hour to work the two of them into the small hallway leading to The Gull’s bathrooms. Emma hitched her leg up to wrap around his hip as he gripped the back of her thigh and kissed his way down neck and across her collarbone.

“Killian,” she whined, slipping another button of his shirt open and threading her fingers through his chest hair.

He groaned against her skin before pulling back and smiling down at her. He rested his forehead against her own and whispered, “’Lo there.”

She reached up and tugged at the strand of hair that fell over his ear, his left dimple deepening as she did. “Your brother,” she started, but became distracted by the way the dim light of the hall reflected on the patch of skin just below his ear and had to trace the shadow with her lips.

“Aye,” he grunted as she nipped at the same spot. “But you were sitting there, looking like you needed to be kissed, and –”

“Yeah?” she asked, snaking a hand beneath his rolled up shirt sleeve, scratching at his bicep.

“You know how I like your hair up,” he said, twisting the end of her ponytail around a finger, tilting her head back and further exposing her neck to him. “And maybe I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you walked out my door last weekend,” he said and kissed at the hollow of her throat.

“Yeah?” she repeated, rolling her hips up and into his. Her skin was heated everywhere he was pressed to her and the want inside her curled deeper with each twitch of his cock against her belly. And maybe it was the two and a half drinks flowing through her blood stream, but she wanted him to tell her more. She wanted to know she affected him as much as he did her. Even if it was something she shouldn’t was, was so much more than what they had promised one another.

Killian smiled as he let go of her hair and thumbed at her chin. “Aye, love.”

Emma was leaning back in, her lips just brushing his when she heard a whoop followed by Elsa’s bright laugh from the front of the bar. “That can’t be good,” she said against his lips, smiling at the sound.

“How badly do you think she’s beaten him this time?”

“Elsa?” She blinked. “At darts? One of us should probably go make sure she doesn’t make him drink more shots just for challenging her in the first place.”

Killian laughed and left a kiss to her throat. “Fair point. So you’ll do the honors then?” he asked, not pulling back but instead nuzzling between her breasts.

She rolled her eyes. “I would, but someone would need to let go of me so I can intervene.”

He whined but slowly lowered her leg, only to nose at one breast as his hand cupped the other.

She moaned, arching into him as he massaged his palm against her clothed nipple. “You’re making it hard to go.”

“I know,” he murmured, lifting his head to place another kiss to the juncture where her neck met her shoulder.

She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed gently, giving herself enough room to slip from between him and the wall.

“I take it you’ll need a minute before joining me?” she called before she turned to re-enter the main room of the bar. He was smirking at her as he slumped against the wall, giving her a small wave off. She ducked back towards Elsa before she was tempted to turn back and wipe the smirk off his face.

*

In the end, Elsa ended up as their designated driver. Despite her threats of commandeering Emma’s drinks, she had paced herself while the rest of them tore through the better part of the bottle of whiskey Tink offered them. They left Emma’s car in the parking lot and piled into Killian’s GTO, Killian claiming shot gun in order to help direct Elsa back to his house. Emma suspected he also wanted to keep an eye on his baby while she was under someone else’s control.

Emma curled in the back next to Liam, resting her head on his arm and drifting off with the hum of the engine and Liam’s quiet snores. She was woken a few minutes later by Elsa’s low whistle as they pulled into Killian’s driveway.

“Damn.”

Emma couldn’t see Killian’s face from her position behind him, but she knew he’d have a broad grin and a bit of red seeping across his cheeks at Elsa’s appreciation.

Throwing the car in park, she caught Emma’s eye in the rearview mirror. “No wonder you spend more time here than our apartment.”

Liam turned and arched his brow at her but said nothing.

Emma grunted and slipped from the car. “I like the view,” she mumbled.

“Uh huh,” Elsa said as she swung her arm over Emma’s shoulder. “Do I get a brief tour before we fall over from exhaustion?”

*

Emma stepped out of the guest bathroom to find Killian leaning up against the wall across from the door.

“Hello, again,” he said, reaching out and lacing his fingers through hers. He tugged her down the hall and to the living room, falling back into the couch and pulling her with him.

She straddled his lap and circled her arms around his neck, leaning in and looking down at him. Killian ran his hands up her bare legs as he returned her smile. “You should come to bed with me.” His fingers skated along the hem of her sleep shorts and he trailed a series of kisses along her collarbone.

“I'm pretty sure Elsa will notice if I don’t come back to the room,” she replied, threading her fingers in the hair curled at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as his teeth worried at her skin.

Kissing a slow path up her neck and to her ear, he whispered, “You sure I can’t convince you?” He slipped his hands up to her waist, pushing them below her loose tank top and ghosting his thumbs along curve of the underside of her breasts.

“Killian,” she warned, though it sounded far too breathy to her ears.

Tracing up the sides before looping back down and circling her nipples, he swiped against them as they tightened and she arched into his touch.

“Maybe just a little while?” he coaxed, moving to palm her fully, squeezing and pressing before returning to teasing touches with his fingertips. “A week is too long.” He pinched and rolled her nipples, hardening them further and building a warmth that spread out from the base of her spine. “And I spent the morning with some rather distracting thoughts about laying you out on my desk.”

Emma hummed in interest, feeling the heat pool lower. Her hips shifted, brushing her against him as he thrust up, leaving her with little doubt as to the direction of those thoughts.

Killian kissed at the hollow of her throat, swirling his tongue around the knob of bone there before moving up along her neck. “Indeed, love,” he whispered against her ear. “We took all sorts of advantage of my newly cleaned desk.” He pulled her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “Your pretty pale skin contrasted so nicely with the dark wood. I was spreading you open, watching you take every last inch of me in, over and over while your breasts swayed with each thrust.” He stroked her breasts again, pressing them up towards her chin. “Do you know how beautiful your breasts look when I fuck you? I’d like to watch them in the mirror across from my desk as I bend you over it.”

“Killian,” she whined again, knowing if she didn’t get up soon, she'd end up fucking him right on the couch, Elsa and Liam be damned.

“Yes, love,” he drawled. “You were pleading just like that. Begging me to let you come. You were positively indecent.”

“Liam and Elsa are just down the hall,” she protested.

“And?” he asked, moving his hands from her breasts to her hips, guiding her movements down into him as he rutted against her. “I think you like that, the idea you could be caught.”

“Says the man who’s narrating his fantasy of fucking me in his office.” She grinned and shifted, lining his erection along her clit, arching again as the sensations running up her spine deepened.

“You've no idea. Was so hard, almost as hard as I am now. Wanted to call you, to hear your voice so I could jerk myself off.”

“Why didn't you?”

Killian stopped for a moment and glanced up at her, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Wasn't sure it would be welcome.”

Emma laughed, burying her face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. “Not that I should encourage you,” she said, “but you could probably talk me into all sorts of things.”

He growled and chased after lips, catching the bottom one between his and pulling before letting it go and kissing her fully. She opened her mouth to him and his tongue swept along hers, tangling them together.

When he broke away, he stayed close, his lips barely leaving hers. “You sure you won't come to bed with me, love?”

Emma pulled back to study his face. His eyes seemed clear of the haze that clouded them when they left the bar. She chewed on her lip as he offered her a small smile.

“But your brother and Elsa,” she sighed.

“Aye.”

After a moment, she answered, “Ask me again when we haven't been drinking.”

Killian nodded and leaned up to kiss her forehead. He nudged her to stand, following her up and twining his hand in one of her own. He drew her down the hall towards the spare bedrooms. When they reached the door to the room she was sharing with Elsa he stopped and she almost tripped into him. He steadied her with his free hand on her shoulder.

“Know this isn't a whim, Emma.” He thumbed at the frayed collar of her tank top. “Tonight out was fun, but I spent so much of it wanting.” He moved a hand up to cup her chin, his other squeezing the hand it held. “And I think you did too.”

She watched him hesitate for a moment and then he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.

“Sleep well,” he whispered before stepping back, squeezing her hand once more before letting go and heading back towards his bedroom.

*

She managed to slip into the bedroom, quietly shutting the door only to trip over the boots she left lying on the floor earlier.

“Emma?”

She sank down on the bed and shuffled under the covers. She could sort of make out Elsa squinting at her in the dim moonlight. Emma took a few deep breaths, wondering what, if anything, she wanted to tell her.

“I think Killian just asked me out,” she blurted out, tucking one of the extra pillows to her chest.

“What?” Elsa scrambled to prop herself her elbow.

“Shhh!”

“What?” Elsa repeated, barely above a whisper this time.

Glad she couldn't really see her eyes, Emma barreled on. “Actually, he asked me to bed.”

Elsa squeaked. “No offense, Emma, but why are you in here then?”

She buried her head in the pillow crushed to her chest, avoiding looking at Elsa as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. “He asked me to bed knowing full well you and his brother were just down the hall.”

“And?”

Emma took a deep breath in. “Will you kill me if I admit we've been sleeping together for the last six months?”

“Emma Swan! I knew it!” she whisper shouted, hitting her arm in emphasis.

Emma closed her eyes, wondering what her chances were of Elsa falling back asleep without talking about this further. _None_. She knew her chances were none.

“Emma,” she started, pulling the pillow down from her face. “So why is it you are in here with me?”

“I don't know,” she sighed. “It's too much, maybe? It isn't what we agreed to.”

“What did you agree to?”

Emma flipped over, staring up at the ceiling. “Some no strings fun. That's all it’s supposed to be.”

Elsa seemed to be waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, she finally asked, “Do you want it to be something more?”

She focused on the pounding of her pulse as it throbbed behind her ear. She knew what she wanted, just couldn't seem to form the words. Working to steady the thrum in her head, she murmured, “I'm scared.”

Elsa wrapped an arm around her, pulling herself close to Emma, resting her head on her shoulder.

“I'm fairly certain that this is one case where you have nothing to worry about.”

*

When Emma woke the next morning, Elsa was still asleep, snoring lightly beside her. Emma slipped from bed and grabbed her robe, not tying it closed as she tiptoed from the room.

She found Liam stretched out on the living room couch, his attention on a soccer match playing on the television. Killian was leaning against the kitchen counter wearing just a pair of sleep pants, coffee mug perched in one hand as he swiped through his phone. He glanced up as she approached, offering her a small smile as he pocketed the phone.

“Morning, love” he greeted, his smile widening as she cradled herself between his thighs.

“Hi,” she whispered, resting one hand in his bare chest and wrapping the other around his coffee mug. She slipped it from his hand and took a sip.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but took the opportunity to settle his hands on her hips, his fingers sliding along the skin above the waistband of her shorts. She hummed and took another sip of coffee before putting the mug down on the counter behind him. She brought her hand up to scratch at the nape of his neck and was stepping onto the balls of her feet when Liam’s shouting at the television interrupted.

Killian looked over her shoulder. “Ref still unable to see more than five feet from the end of his nose?” he called.

“I don’t even know why I let you talk me into watching Italian League,” Liam grumbled. “This is a bloody train wreck.”

Emma rolled her eyes but stepped back to allow Killian to join his brother. He pressed a kiss against her temple before picking up his mug and walking towards the couch.

“There’s an art to it. It’s not my fault you have no appreciation.”

She pulled another mug from the cabinet and poured herself cup as she watched Liam punch Killian’s arm as he sat. She smiled when Killian turned back a moment to glance at her.

“I'm going to shower,” she mouthed and nodded towards the bathroom.

He bit down on his lower lip in a manner that clearly spoke of wanting to join her. “Alone,” she added, giving him a stern look.

He pouted and she grinned as she brought her mug to her lips, taking a sip before walking back down the hall.

*

Emma knew they should talk about Friday night. She was an adult and old enough to know that's what they should do. Even if talking about feelings made her itch, let alone talking about the complexity of what it was she felt for Killian. But because she was who she was, and it was what she did best, she let another week pass while she avoided the subject.

With Liam in town, it was easy enough to do. The long weekend at Killian’s with Elsa was a blur of touring Liam around, dragging other friends out with them, and generally drinking and eating too much. Her mid-week routine of spending a few days working from Killian’s house was also disrupted, much to Emma’s chagrin at realizing she had near weekly routines that revolved around hunching over her laptop at Killian’s dining room table.

Much less that she missed them terribly.

All of which was why she found herself sulking alone on Killian’s couch in the midst of a party as she nursed a gin drink and watched Killian and Liam, despite the frigid temperature, have an argument out on the back deck.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

The couch dipped as Mary Margaret joined her, nodding towards where Killian and Liam stood. Killian looked to be pulling at the hair at the back of his neck as Liam gesticulated a bit wildly in emphasis of whatever it was that was annoying him.

Emma shrugged, letting her head fall to Mary Margaret’s shoulder, the combination of the heat from the fireplace and the alcohol making her feel sluggish. Mary Margaret tilted her head to rest on hers and they continued to sit there, silently staring at the fire as the party swirled around them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mary Margaret asked after a while.

Emma tensed. “What’s there to talk about?” she bit out reflexively.

Mary Margaret shifted to the side, shooting her a skeptical glare complete with pursed lips. Emma sighed.

“No need to get cagey,” Mary Margaret said, reaching out to wrap one of Emma’s hands in her own. “Just thought you might like someone to talk to about whatever it is that’s going on between you and Killian.”

Emma picked up her drink off the coffee table and polished off the remains. “Is it that obvious?” she asked.

Mary Margaret laughed and Emma glared, causing her to raise her arms in appeasement. She nudged Emma as she put her hands down and Emma nudged back with an eye roll.

“Can I ask for a rain check?” she asked, offering a weak smile.

“I’m here when you are ready,” Mary Margaret said and picked up both their glasses, getting up from the couch as Killian slunk back inside and walked towards them. “Want another drink?” she asked as Killian slid into her vacated spot.

Emma smiled and nodded, settling against Killian as he pulled her back to him. She rested her head on his chest and looked up at him, earning a smile from him as he glanced down. “What’s got Liam all in a huff?”

His smile turned wry. “Mind if we talk about it later, after everyone’s left?”

She tried not to stiffen at his words, an echo of her own to Mary Margaret, but she must have anyway because he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger and whispered, “It’s nothing to worry about, love. Liam is simply emphatic when he feels I’ve been an idiot. Elder brother and all.” She hummed an understanding she didn’t feel, but let Killian lull her with the steady smoothing of his hand up and down her arm.

She wasn’t entirely sure when she fell asleep or how long she was out, but when she woke she could hear laughter and voices coming from around the dining table behind the couch. The noise level was quieter than before, so it must have been late enough for the number of guests to have dwindled. Killian was still with her, but had shifted so he was lengthwise along the cushions with her nestled in between his legs. She felt warm and languid, a combination of the fire and the way his hand lingered along her leg beneath the throw he must have covered them with.

Killian seemed to be talking with Graham and Robin, but she kept her eyes closed, letting their voices wash over her as she stretched and snuggled further into him. His hand moved up her thigh as she did, coming to rest at the waist of her jeans. Emma turned her face into his chest and grinned, resting her own hand at his hip, rubbing her thumb along the soft flannel of his shirt. He tapped one finger against the button of her fly and she shifted as he slipped his hand down the seam of her jeans, coming to rest over center. He pressed down with the heel of his palm and she ground up into his hand in encouragement. Bringing one hand up to her face, he rested a finger on her lips in a silent request for her to keep quiet.

She listened as Killian kept talking about some match they’d watched earlier in the week, but she had trouble focusing on his words as he popped her fly and spread open her zipper. His fingers teased over her underwear, dipping down and resting at her clit, rubbing a few lazy circles before moving back up to trail along the edge of the lace. Ignoring the voice that told her she should stop him, she instead tried to twist and give him better access in the cramped space. She was rewarded with his fingers slipping beneath her underwear and teasing the soft, bare skin at her mound.

The moment he registered the bare skin, his chest hitched and fingers faltered before pushing down to her folds and finding them bare as well. She grinned to herself. She usually kept herself trim and neat, but he had made a passing comment some weeks back. It was a toss away thought breathed against her skin in the heat of the moment, him wondering what it would feel like to touch her like this. It left her curious and wanting enough to try it.

His free hand came down and squeezed her arm almost too tightly, and he chanced to whisper against her temple. “You are entirely unfair, Swan. And entirely too good for me.”

She glanced up at him and found him staring at her with a fire in his eyes that made her wish the last of his guests had already left.

“Emma still asleep, mate?” Robin asked and she closed her eyes and settled back against him.

“Aye,” he answered, his tone a forced sort of light as his fingers continued their exploration, brushing up and down along as much of her as he could reach.

She was having trouble keeping her breath steady, the sensation of the pads of his fingers dragging along her skin almost too much with no barrier between them. The sparks that ran from her core and through her spine were causing her hand to flex at his waist, gripping him as a way to focus on not making a sound. She wished desperately that she somewhere she should stretch out, to allow Killian to touch and tease as he wanted. Knowing that if this is what it felt like without him really even touching her, she might not survive the feel of his tongue pressed against her skin.

Killian continued to pick apart some play from the game, the details lost on her as he slipped a finger between her folds, dipping and thrusting shallowly into her entrance before moving back to her clit. He rolled and pinched her between his fingers, then swiped in broad circles before repeating the pattern, winding her straight up with what he knew would get her off.

She would have marveled at his ability to sound so calm as he touched her, but the unrelenting pace of how he was building her up narrowed her focus to how her hand was bunching and pulling at his tucked shirt. She about cried in triumph when she felt the first touch of her hand on the warm skin of his side, but caught herself with a bite of her lip. Her grasping at his skin seemed to cause him to redouble his efforts, pressing back into her as his thumb rolled against her clit. She bit down on the back of her hand as she came, using any focus she had to keep herself from arching and rolling with the wave of sensations pounding through her.

When she came back to herself, it was to the feel of Killian zipping her jeans back up and adjusting himself to sit up straighter. She heard him saying something about putting her to bed, but it didn’t really register until she found him lifting her up off the couch and carrying her to his room.

He placed her on his bed and moved to join her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, but feeling too lazy and sated to really protest.

He grinned and crawled over to her, straddling her hips and gathering her hands in his. “Taking further advantage,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. He leaned up and pushed her arms above her head. He kissed her lightly, a simple brush of his lips across hers before he let go and sat up. He walked towards the windows and pulled the shades closed.

“Do me a favor and wait here,” he said. “I’m going to see the last of our guests take their leave shortly.”

She gave a small nod as he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

‘ _Tomorrow_ ,’ she thought. ‘ _Plenty of time to talk tomorrow._ ’


	7. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, here we are, part the 7th (and the last full part). A mini-epilogue will be posted tomorrow (Tuesday) or Wednesday. Many a heart felt thank you will be posted with that.

She stayed.

Liam was in the house, Robin had crashed downstairs, and Emma had stayed. In his bed. Despite the fact it was still dark outside and Emma was burrowed next to him breathing softly and evenly, Killian wanted to shout in delight. Instead, he contented himself with tracing nonsense into her belly, enjoying the warmth of her skin under his fingers and the breathy sighs she gave as his hand wandered.

He knew she’d been avoiding him and the question he hadn’t quite fully articulated the weekend prior. At the very least she was using Liam’s presence as a means of avoiding the topic. But she had asked him to ask her again, to find a moment to not doused in alcohol and not surrounded by others to tell her what it was he wanted and to ask her if she wanted the same.

And god how he wanted. He wanted to kiss her in full view of their friends. He wanted to take her hand, touch her face, and skim his hand along her back all while not caring who saw. He wanted to take her on a date and call it what it was. He wanted to come home each night and find her stuff strewn all about his house – and not just her shoes and hair ties and sweaters. He wanted her sheets on his bed, her clothes in his closet, and her framed photographs mixed among his on the walls lining the hall and above the fireplace mantel.

His hand stilled at that last thought, his palm over the slight swell of her belly while his fingers grazed her hipbone. He wondered, and not for the first time, when everything had shifted for him and how it was he hadn’t noticed. Liam’s words from earlier that night echoed in his head.

_“Stop trying to fool yourself, little brother.”_

_“Pardon?”_

_Liam rolled his eyes and leaned his back against the deck railing._

_“It’s not what you think,” Killian said, taking a long drink of his beer as he kept his eyes on the bay below them._

_Liam’s brow wrinkled and the look he shot him dripped in disbelief. “You’re not seeing Emma and keeping it from me?”_

_“No,” he answered, picking at the edges of the label of his beer bottle._

_“And why the bloody hell not? You’ve seen the woman and the way she looks at you, have you not?”_

_“I don’t know if it’s what she wants. If I’m –”_

_“Don’t,” Liam warned, slamming his bottle down on the railing. “Don’t even try to give me the she’s too good for me script you’ve allowed to run through your head.”_

Killian was pulled from his thoughts as Emma shifted onto her back and his hand slipped to her hip. He returned to tracing patterns on her skin, his fingers playing along her hipbone and down her thigh. The blankets had bunched when she turned, pulling them down and exposing her breasts to him. He ghosted his hand over her center and itched to dip his head down and wrap his lips around one of her nipples, wanting to feel it tighten and warm beneath his tongue as he did. His cocked stirred in interest at the thought of waking her with his fingers caressing along the edges of her folds, teasing between them and pushing inside. He took a steadying breath instead, settling his hand back over her hip and closing his eyes. He kissed her temple after a moment and let himself drift back to sleep.

*

Light was trickling in from beneath the shades when Killian woke next. He stretched and tried to ignore the swoop of disappointment at finding Emma gone. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and spent a few minutes idling through his email and Instagram feed. Hearing shuffling out in the hall, he slipped from bed and pulled a pair of sleep pants from his dresser.

“Emma?” he called as he made his way down the hall.

“It's only me,” Liam answered.

Killian swiped his hand through his hair and turned the corner to find Liam spread across the couch, a mug raised to his lips. Killian nudged his feet off the end and settled down next to him.

“There’s tea,” Liam said after a moment.

He grunted but let his head fall against the back of the couch. He wasn’t sure how long they sat in silence before Liam put his mug on the coffee table and said, “She slipped out a little while ago.”

“Pardon?”

“Emma.” He opened an eye to find Liam tapping his thumb against his knee.

Killian sat up. “She left?”

Liam rubbed at the back of his neck. “I may have been awake when she left your room this morning.”

Killian groaned. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing, I swear,” he replied, raising his hands in supplication.

“I’m not fucking around, Liam,” he warned.

Liam frowned. “She seemed a bit wary when she found me out here this morning. I wanted to put her at ease, so I gave her a hug and told her I was happy, for you both. That you two were exactly what the other needed. I didn’t anticipate it would cause her to bolt.”

He swore under his breath. “I told you not to meddle.”

“I wasn’t –”

Killian cut him off with a stare and headed to his room.

*

He tried calling her twice as he pulled on some clothes, but her phone kept sending him directly to her voicemail. He barely managed to pull on a scarf in addition to his coat as he grabbed his keys from the table by the door. He threw his car into reverse and took off without being entirely sure where he was heading.

Reaching the end of the street, he took the chance that she hadn’t started back to Portland and made a right turn towards David and Mary Margaret’s place. When he turned down their street and caught the yellow flash of her bug parked in front of their house, he let out a long, steadying breath. Whatever she had read into Liam’s words, it hadn’t been bad enough to cause her to go somewhere it would take him hours to follow. He’d take whatever comfort he could from that.

He pulled up behind her car and killed the engine before tightening his scarf and zipping his coat closed. As he walked towards the front door, he found a set of fresh footprints in the snow that wound towards the backyard. He followed and found Emma sitting on one of the too small swings, listlessly swaying with one toe on the ground beneath her.

She didn’t look up when he stopped just outside the swing’s perimeter, but her foot flexed and she switched her balance to the ball of her foot.

“Your boots aren’t tied.”

Killian looked down and found his laces dragging along the snow, leaving a snaking pattern in their wake.

“I was in a hurry,” he said with a shrug. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“Didn’t want to wake them.”

He reached out and wrapped a hand around one of the swing’s chains. It felt bitterly cold against his bare skin and he wished he had remembered to grab a pair of gloves on his way out. “You’d rather give Mary Margaret a fright when she looks out her kitchen window while filling her tea kettle?” he asked, pulling her to a stop.

She shrugged. “Felt good out here.”

“It’s barely above freezing, love, that can’t possibly be true,” he whispered, wrapping his hands over hers where they curled around each of the chains. He worked her hands open and twined her fingers between his own. “Do you want to talk about what it was Liam said?”

Emma sighed and her head fell forward, resting against his chest. “It’s not Liam.”

Killian squeezed her hands as he bent his head to kiss the top of hers. “Then why are you all the way out here and not curled up on my couch, nursing your first cup of coffee?”

Emma shifted back to look up at him, her eyes scanning his as she chewed on her lip. “I can’t…” she trailed off.

Killian felt his heart falter. “Can’t what, Emma?” he asked, trying to keep his rising panic out of his voice. When she didn’t answer him, he swallowed and pressed on. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

She nodded once but still kept silent.

He let one of her hands go and took a step back. “Follow me,” he said with a small tug to the hand he still held. When she stood, he gave her a smile and pulled her towards the front of the house. As they reached the cars, he stopped them and moved his hands to her waist, nudging her up on the trunk of his car. She gave him a look but followed his request, watching him as he scrambled up behind her and perched himself next to her.

She sank against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“It’s not Liam,” she repeated, “or what he said, not really.”

Killian nodded and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his lap, partly to ward off the cold and partly to bring her as close as he could manage.

“I just, I don’t know, suddenly realized how in deep I was and how much I stood to lose. You. Liam. Tink. Mary Margaret’s group dinners. I was alone for so long.” Her voice broke and she paused, taking a deep breath. He squeezed her and swayed a little, hoping to encourage her to continue. “I don’t know how it was all of you managed to put up with me long enough for me to let down my guard.”

He smiled and press a kiss to the back of her ear. “You’re easy to love, Emma. Despite what you may think.”  
It was her shuddering breath that made him to realize exactly what it was he said. He squeezed her tighter and was working to find a means to soften the words when she spoke instead.

“I won’t come back from this, if –” she stuttered. “The Swans. Neal leaving me to face everything alone. Walsh’s lies. August’s disregard. I like to think I survived all of that. But you –” She paused and shifted in order to look at him. “If I lost you, I don’t think I come back from that.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Emma,” he whispered, moving a hand up to cup her jaw. “You are the strongest person I know. There isn’t anything I can imagine that would truly break you.” He thumbed at the dent in her chin. “But you can’t possibly lose me,” he continued as he inched his lips towards hers. He stopped with only a hair’s breadth between them. “I’m right where I want to be. Where I’ve wanted to be. And I should have said as much long before now.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and he swiped his thumb along her cheek to wipe it away as he closed the last bit of distance between them. He meant for it to be a soft, gentle thing, but her lips were insistent and her hand was curling around his neck and pulling him closer. He pressed his advantage and swept his tongue past her lips and into her mouth, caressing and twining her tongue with his own. He tried to slow it down after a few moments, moving his free hand to her other cheek and holding her still so that he could tell her how much he wanted her here with him with each nip at her lips and every slide of his tongue with hers.

He broke away only when he felt her shiver with the cold. When Emma finally opened her eyes, he found they still shone with tears, but her smile was a radiant, beautiful thing he wished he could photograph and keep with him always.

He leant in and nudged his nose against hers. “Come home with me, love. There’ll be a pot of coffee on and an idiot brother who needs a slap upside the head. Besides, I’d like to wrap you up in a heap of blankets and tell you of all the ways I’d like to wake up and find you lying next to me.”

Emma’s smile widened and she shuffled off the trunk of his car and pulled him to follow her. “Sounds perfect,” she said against his lips as she pressed him into the side of his car, using the moment to steal one more kiss before walking to her car.

Killian slipped into his car and waited as she warmed hers enough to make the drive back home, positioning the air vent blow heat at full blast directly in his face. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Liam as he did.

_There better be a pot of coffee brewed by the time we get back._

_Anything for you, baby brother._

Killian scoffed and took a picture of his two proffered fingers, firing that off as his response as Emma pulled away from the curb.

*

Robin was awake by the time they arrived back at the house. If Liam had told him anything of what transpired earlier, he didn’t betray it as Emma trailed in after Killian, swapping her wet jeans for a pair of his sweats before joining them in the kitchen.

Killian watched as Liam passed Emma a steaming mug of coffee mixed with the ridiculous amount of cream and sugar she preferred and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she took her first sip. The smile that twitched at Emma’s lips as she sank into his hug was one of Killian’s favorites – a relaxed, pleased little thing that spoke of a hint of contentedness. If he had the means, Killian thought he might like to slip this moment into his pocket, save it for a day when he needed it.

When they eventually moved to the living room to sprawl out on the couches and nurse their hangovers with eggs and a movie marathon, Killian nearly burst when Emma curled up with him, pulling two duvets over them as she settled against his chest.

Robin shot him a look while Emma was focused on scrolling through the on demand menu. Killian merely grinned and planted a kiss to the top of her head as she and Liam argued the merits of _Ronin_ versus _The Thomas Crown Affair_ for their first movie.

As the prologue rolled past and faded into views of Paris, Emma slipped her hand into Killian’s, threading their fingers together and settling them on top of the duvets. He could feel his heartbeat speed up a bit as her thumb swept over the top his hand and he left a soft kiss to the back of her ear.

This was the moment, he decided as his lips still grazing her skin. As lovely as the one in the kitchen had been, it was this one he’d cherish most - Emma Swan in his arms, warm, affectionate, and unafraid to be there in full view of two of the people who mattered most to him.


	8. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a mini-epilogue for this piece. Thanks for coming along for this ride!

Killian Jones wouldn’t have described himself as a nervous man, but standing on the back deck of his house watching Emma lounge at the end of the dock, there was nothing else to be said for him. He kept shifting his weight between his feet as he leant on the railing, stalling for time as the sun crept towards the horizon across the bay. He knew he should go join her, let her know he was home, but instead simply stood there and watched as she dragged her bare toes across the water.

June had brought with it the first truly warm string of weather of the season. The two of them even braved opening the windows for a brief period that past weekend, allowing the breeze to air out the stuffiness that came with sealing up the house for the better part of the long Maine winter. But even with the warm days, the water still had to be freezing. Though you wouldn’t know it from the relaxed set of Emma’s shoulders.

In the months since they had settled into a relationship, or had been honest about what the one they had, the house had begun morph. More of Emma’s wardrobe had settled in his closet and her shoes seemed to be forming a small army on its floor. Mary Margaret had helped them go through legions of vacation and other photos she had of them and their friends, printing some and having them framed to hang both in their bedroom and the downstairs den. And while she and Elsa were together often, Killian wasn’t sure when was the last time Emma had slept in her own apartment.

The shadows cast by the trees grew longer as he watched her, unwilling to disturb her peace and still a tad shy about the box in his left hand, the contents of which were long overdue. He thumbed at the package, enjoying the crisp feel of the heavy, teal wrapping paper against his skin. The bow he’d tied earlier was coming loose, so he set the box down and went about tightening it as he tried not to worry about Emma’s reaction to the contents.

He shouldn’t feel nervous about this. He was pretty sure the smile she’d bestow on him once she opened it would be brilliant. He was almost certain she’d understand the question that accompanied the contents, even before he’d have a chance to voice it.

The box rattled as he straightened up, the keychain nestled inside sounding clear and bright to his ears. He’d had a swan design, patterned to mimic a Celtic knot, forged and 4 new keys cut just for her – one for the house, another for the office, and the last two for the boat and his car. He’d shot a quick photo of the set the night before, when the extra car key finally arrived, and sent it Liam. Despite it being nearly 1 AM there, Liam had texted him back immediately.

_Don’t you think a ring ought to accompany those?_

_One step at a time, old man._

_Fuck off, baby brother. When are you giving them to her?_

_Tomorrow. She should be back from Portland by the time I return from work._

_Good. Let me know when it’s safe to call. She deserves a proper welcome to the family._

_It’s not an engagement._

_As good as, as far as I’m concerned._

Killian smiled as Emma brought legs up and back onto the dock, pulling them into her chest as she wrapped her arms around her knees. He could almost imagine Liam pacing around his flat, waiting to hear from him. He gave the ribbon one last tug, setting its angle just right before making his way towards the stairs.

_Tomorrow_ , he thought. _Liam could wait to hear from them tomorrow_. Tonight, hopefully, there would be plenty for Emma and him to celebrate, together. Everything else - everyone else - could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, all of you! I appreciate everyone who has read, left kudos, comments, or somehow flailed in my general direction. The support and patience as I wrote slowly is beyond appreciated. I don't tend towards writing long fic, and now you know why, but you made it fun and satisfying!
> 
> If you haven't before, you are always welcome to come hang out with me on tumblr. User name there is the same as here.


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